


Long Term Plan, Short Term Fixes

by moonflares (jennyhearts)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Also tiny bit of violence in the beginning, But mostly a feel-good kinda read, First Love, Fluff, Lots of fluff and cringe, M/M, Post-3D AU?, Sora-centric, Tiny bit of Angst, Will add more tags when they come up, kh-worldsconnected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennyhearts/pseuds/moonflares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of all the people who resided within his heart, it was the boy who shared his face that intrigued Sora the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Term Plan, Short Term Fixes

**Author's Note:**

> My half of a collab with maggielacivi @ tumblr for the [kh-worldsconnected](http://kh-worldsconnected.tumblr.com/) big bang fanzine! Check out the super amazing, super wonderful artwork, that my fic does no justice to at all, he made [here](http://maggielacivi.tumblr.com/post/149613274020/sorry-i-was-so-late-doing-two-things-was-super)!

 

“in my nothing, you were everything to me.”

– trent reznor

 

Out of all the people who resided within his heart, it was the boy who shared his face that intrigued Sora the most.

The first time Sora found out about Vanitas’ existence was when he was hanging out with Ventus. After mastering the ability of dream-dropping and discovering that he harbored so many people in his own heart, Sora had developed the habit of dropping into himself to visit the residents of his heart. It was simple process. He would fall asleep and arrive at his Station of Awakening, and from there, all he had to do was pick a door and go through it to visit said residents. Four doors stood like sentinels around the perimeter of his station, each a different colour, each sheltering a different person that somehow had their fate interlocked with his own.

Bright green was Ventus, and bright green had been the easiest to get close to. It took almost no effort at all for Sora and Ventus to become fast friends, though there was a tiny wrinkle at the very beginning of their friendship. Midnight blue had been shy and withdrawn but Xion had opened herself up to him eventually after some gentle coaxing on Sora’s part. Roxas, steel grey, had been Sora’s biggest challenge to date but even his other half caved to Sora’s relentless efforts to get him to warm up to him.

“You’re really weird,” Roxas had told him. His Nobody tried to push him away at first, refusing to accept any of Sora’s attempts to get to know him better. “If it was anybody else, they would have given up by now.”

Sora had grinned and ruffled Roxas’ hair, earning himself Roxas’ unbridled rage for the rest of their time together that day. Sora wasn’t anybody else. He felt a compelling, almost obsessive need to make sure that the people in his heart were comfortable and happy. Sora refused to think of them as anything else. They were all their own person, individual beings that had their own dreams and hopes. They were just stuck in Sora’s heart for the time-being, that’s all. Sora had made up his mind a long time ago. Once the whole mess with Xehanort was over and done with, he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that the people in his heart were freed so they could live their own lives. It didn’t matter if them becoming their own persons would mean Sora would lose some of himself. It wasn’t fair that he was the only one who got to be happy, wasn’t fair that he was the only one who had a second chance of being with Riku and Kairi again. Giving up parts of himself was a small price to pay in exchange for their happiness.

There were four doors in Sora’s Station of Awakening. Sora had gone through bright green, midnight blue, and steel grey but there was one door that stayed out of his reach. He had exhausted all the ideas he could think of, from using his keyblade, to forcing the door open with pure, brute strength (not that he was ever particularly hopeful with this one). The black door remained stubbornly locked. Sora could not believe that he had been denied entry, in his own heart no less.

“I have a feeling I know who’s behind that door,” Ventus had muttered under his breath when Sora had confided his troubles to him. “I thought he was gone for good but the description fits. It must be Vanitas.”

Vanitas: the manifestation of Ventus’ darkness. Ventus told Sora all about Vanitas. How Vanitas had stalked and taunted him while the both of them were still alive. How Vanitas was directly responsible for Ventus’ current state of affairs—residing in Sora’s heart because his own was too fractured to be able to survive without the help of another.

“He looks a lot like you,” Ventus confessed in a small voice. “Just…darker,” the sentence trailing off and crumbling into white noise. Ventus had reacted violently when he first laid eyes on Sora’s face. It had been difficult to convince him that Sora meant no harm and only wanted to be his friend. Ventus overcame his fear gradually once he realized that Sora was nothing like Vanitas despite the fact that the both of them shared the exact same face.

Sora neglected to tell Ventus that he had his own doppelganger who was just a door away, feeling that it wasn’t necessary to confuse the poor boy even more. Ventus needed a break from all the drama. Sora would tell him when the time was right.

“Just leave him alone, Sora. Vanitas is nothing but trouble. You’re better off not meeting him at all,” the finality in his voice clear. They switched to talking about the sandy beaches of Destiny Islands and never spoke about Vanitas again.

However, Vanitas continued to linger in Sora’s mind. It didn’t sit right with him that Vanitas was being left out. Sure, from what he’s heard, Vanitas might be darkness incarnate itself and the worst person in the known world, but he couldn’t be all bad, right? He had thought Roxas was a bad guy at first but look how that turned out. He was nothing but a big softie under all that edge and very much, justified anger.

It became a habit for Sora to try his luck with the black door every time he visited his new friends. “This time, for sure,” he would mumble to himself as he gripped the doorknob and turned it. His face would fall and he would scowl at the offending door for denying him entry over and over again. But Sora was nothing if not stubborn and determined. He wasn’t going to give up, not a chance.

Sora’s perseverance finally paid off. He wasn’t sure what exactly triggered it but on one fateful day, the door yielded to him. It had been a particularly long day of training for Sora so he didn’t even notice that the door was unlocked at first. The door creaked open, a wisp of darkness escaping the slit and disintegrating into the air near Sora’s left leg. Sora blinked at the slit, slowly coming back to his senses. He cheered to himself once he finally connected the dots and realized that the door! The door was unlocked! He had done it!

Sora pushed the door, wider and wider until it was completely open, the room exposed to him. It was bare except for a bed that was pushed against the left wall. Sora stepped across the threshold, years of experience with empty spaces making him scan it warily. He barely had time to register that the sheets on the bed were wrinkled, the blanket lying in a heap near the foot of it, when he found himself becoming rather intimate with the floor. Sora was tackled from behind, a whole world of pain exploding from the brunt of impact his chin took. His arms shot out too late to break the fall and he collapsing under the combined weight of his attacker and himself.

“Who are you,” it wasn’t a question. It was a demand and the voice it was delivered in sent a chill up Sora’s spine: rough velvet, infinitely dangerous, undeniably masculine. Sora grunted as he tried to push himself off the floor only to have his face ground into the cement even more. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes when he felt the small rocks dig indents into the soft flesh of his right cheek.

“Let me go,” Sora gritted through his teeth, trying to avoid inhaling any dirt. He moved his head so he could glance at his attacker. His reflection stared back at him from an endless expanse of dark glass. Sora was surprised to see himself, blue eyes wide, tufts of brown hair poking through the spaces in between the other’s gloved fingers. He gasped when he felt the stranger push his knee deeper into the small of his back, twisting it in half-circles to inflict even more damage onto his already abused body.

“Answer the question,” his voice was laced with poison now, the resentment becoming more pronounced. His grip on Sora’s hair tightened as he tugged on the brown locks again, threatening to pull Sora’s hair clean off his scalp. Sora was suddenly bombarded by images of himself with several bald splotches on one side of his head thanks to his overactive imagination. He would have laughed at the absurdity of his potential appearance if his ribcage wasn’t slowly being crushed.

“That hurts!” Sora threw his arm back, trying to scratch his way out of the masked boy’s hold. Unfortunately for him, his fingers met with some sort of hard, corded substance, which meant that his scratching did nothing at all to free himself. In fact, all it did was make his situation deteriorate from bad to worse. The masked boy grabbed his wrist, forcing it behind Sora’s back and twisting it into an awkward angle. Sora cried out in pain. It felt like his arm was about to be snapped off. He started to thrash underneath the other boy, shaking his torso and kicking his legs, doing anything he could to throw the other off him before he lost function of his limb. “Let go of me!”

“Stop that,” the attacker’s voice sounded more severe—strained even. Sora disregarded the command. He did the opposite and started to thrash around even more. “Stop showing that stupid expression with my face!”

That made Sora freeze completely. He looked at the masked boy, a mixture of confusion and anger swirling within him. “Your face?” He said incredulously. “I can’t even see your face! What are you talking about? Let go of me!”

The masked boy made an impatient noise. Ignoring all of Sora’s heated protests, he rolled Sora onto his back with ease and sat on his chest. He slammed both feet down on opposite sides of Sora’s head, stirring up tiny tornadoes of dust. Sora’s breath caught and he nearly choked on the bubble of air in his throat when the masked boy gripped the sides of his head and forced it forward so that the tip of Sora’s nose was nearly touching the glass.

If Sora was feeling a little scared before, he found himself paralyzed by a crippling fear as he stared into a dark abyss where a pair of eyes should have been. His lips trembled and his hands felt too cold and numb.

Sora let out a small gasp when the masked boy placed his hand on his face, blocking part of his vision. He stopped breathing when the mask suddenly melted away, dissolving into silky strands of black smoke that danced into disintegration. Sora was still staring at his reflection, except it was all _wrong_. His hair, darkened into an inky black; his eyes, twin golden orbs that simmered with hate, eyebrows knotted tightly together; his mouth, turned down into a scathing scowl.

“This—” his reflection curled his fingers, pushing the rough pads of his glove into Sora’s face. Sora couldn’t help but notice how familiar the voice sounded in his ears now because it was _his_ voice. How did he not realize before? “—is _my_ face. And you’re _misusing_ it,” his reflection’s every word dripped with disdain, steeped in a loathing so deep, it made the hairs on the back of Sora’s neck stand. Ventus’ words about how Vanitas was just a “darker” version of Sora pushed itself to the forefront of his thoughts and he couldn’t help but feel that Ventus had made a severely gross understatement. Because there was no one else this person could be but Vanitas, right?

Sora was terrified. It was unnerving to see this darkness-infested version of himself so up close and personal. It conjured up fragmented memories of when he had succumbed to that raw power, made his mind race unwillingly about the endless possibilities that untapped pool of potential held. Sora shook his head, well, as much as he could move it, being trapped in between Vanitas’ hands. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. He had to stay strong! He couldn’t let this…this doppelganger get the better of him!

 Sora clenched his fists, forcing the trembling to stop using sheer willpower. He lifted his hand and grabbed Vanitas’ wrist, tearing the encroaching hand off his face. “This is _my_ face. Now, get off of me, Vanitas.”

Vanitas stilled above him for a beat before bursting out into laughter. The chilling sound reverberated around the small room, bouncing off the walls, multiplying and expanding until Sora’s head was completely filled with it. It took a few minutes for Vanitas to regain his composure but when he did Sora’s world was once again violently thrown off its axis. With half-lidded eyes, Vanitas looked down at Sora and half-sneered, half-smirked at him, his golden eyes glinting wickedly even though there was no light in the room that would have facilitated it to _glow_ that way.

“I get it. You must be _Sora_ ,” Vanitas said in a low voice. Sora snapped out of his first panic attack about finding that sultry expression on his own face attractive only to barrel right into another mortifying realization of enjoying the sound of his own voice saying his own name. Except, Sora’s face has never contorted into expressions like the one Vanitas was wearing; Sora’s voice has never dropped octaves that way, never sounded like molten honey dripping fat drops of lust and desire.

“Y-yeah!” Sora’s response had been _this close_ to coming out as a squeak. “The name’s Sora, you better remember that!”

Vanitas laughed again, a little less maliciously than before. “What an idiot,” he said as he lifted himself off of Sora. He didn’t offer a hand to help Sora up. Instead, he stepped over Sora like he was a piece of old gum on the pavement, an inconvenience that didn’t even deserve an ounce of his attention. “No wonder Ventus chose you. You two idiots were made for each other.”

Sora stayed on the ground for a few moments as he tried to regain his composure, Vanitas’ insults going in one ear and exiting from the other. Had he really found Vanitas attractive just a few moments ago? It didn’t seem plausible and definitely wasn’t logical in the slightest. Vanitas had been threatening his life! No sane person would get turned on by someone out for their life. There was no way, it doesn’t matter if he had the prettiest pair of eyes Sora had ever drowned in or the kind of voice that Sora wanted to fall asleep to…

Besides, Sora hadn’t even touched on the most important thing: Vanitas had Sora’s face. Being attracted to Vanitas would mean that Sora was attracted to himself, making him a narcissist. The title didn’t sit well with him. Sora was _not_ a narcissist.

“Well, are you leaving or are you just going to lay there? You’re an eyesore and I don’t appreciate having my time in solitary confinement interrupted.”

Pushing the crown of his head against the cement floor, Sora leaned his neck back so he could look at Vanitas from his position on the ground. The helmet was back in place once again, hiding Vanitas’ face from Sora’s view. And yet, even though the helmet was there, even though he was upside down, Sora could picture so clearly the disgruntled expression on Vanitas’ face, the sarcastic smirk that would be laced with hints of amusement.

Sora rolled onto his hands and knees, pushing himself up from the floor, a place he had spent far too much time with in the past hour. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, your door stayed locked for months. I’ve been kept out for long enough,” Sora shot Vanitas a grin of his own: a wide, earnest one that showed he meant business.

Despite the rocky start they had, Sora had not forgotten his promise to help all the inhabitants of his heart. It was a promise he had made to himself and one that he was going to carry through, whether they wanted his help or not. Vanitas was no different. Sora had heard about all the bad things from Ventus but it didn’t mean that Vanitas didn’t deserve to be his own person too.

Vanitas scoffed—Sora could almost see him rolling those brilliant eyes of his beyond the dark glass—and laid down, throwing the thin blanket over himself. His body was turned away from Sora but the brunet didn’t miss the empty space that was left behind on the bed, just enough for another body to occupy.

Sora took a step forward, his grin widening. He had more important things to worry about other than the flicker of attraction that had sparked within him when Vanitas’ face had been so close to his own, their hot breaths mingling in the space that barely existed. The more distant Sora got from that memory, the more it seemed like a simple confusion on his part, an innocent mistake. Adding on to that, Sora had hit his head pretty hard against the floor when he got tackled by Vanitas. The impact must have messed up his brain for awhile! Now, _that_ was perfectly plausible.

Sora was not a narcissist.

The feeling that had welled up in him had been a misunderstanding.

The way his heart pounded in his chest as he walked closer to Vanitas was an illusion.

 

 | | | |

 

 “What?” Was Riku’s incredibly intelligent reply when Sora asked him if it was possible to bring food along with them when they dropped. “Why would you want to bring food?”

“Well, you see…” Sora contemplated the way he was going to phrase his answer, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he tried not to panic. He had expected this question from Riku, he just had to give him the rehearsed answer! “Roxas and the others have never tried certain stuff before! Even though they can pretty much imagine up whatever they want, they can only materialize things that they know. So, they have no idea what a paopu cake tastes like, which is such a shame because Destiny Islands has the best paopu cakes!”

If Riku found Sora’s rapid-fire rambling to be odd, he didn’t question it, which Sora was thankful for. If he wanted to get specific with it, Sora hadn’t told a lie. Not at all! His blanket statement of “Roxas and the others” had included Vanitas, who was the real reason why Sora wanted to drop into his heart with a box of delicious paopu cake in tow, but that still didn’t make his answer a complete lie!

It’s been almost half a year since Sora met Vanitas and it had been an aggravating six months of getting to know his “darker half”, Sora never was able to shake the label that Ventus coined. Vanitas was by far the most difficult to deal with. Sora was never sure what was on his mind, could never figure out if his words were sarcastic or sincere. Spending time with Ventus, Roxas, and Xion was so much easier than trying to hold a proper conversation with Vanitas. It was a chore and Vanitas seemed to derive an unreasonable amount of pleasure from leading Sora around in endless circles that created more questions than answers.

And yet—

“Oh,” Riku ran a hand through his hair, pushing the stray strands behind his ears. “I don’t know, Sora. I’ve never tried it.”

“Aww man, I thought you would know, for sure!” Sora pouted, releasing the hem of his shirt to fan himself with his hands. Summer had announced itself in Destiny Islands in the flashiest way possible this year, with a near-unbearable heatwave that had all the islanders either spending the entirety of their days in the safety of their air-conditioned homes or cooling off in the shimmering waters of the ocean. Sora and Riku were actually on their way to the docks so they could row towards the smaller island to escape the crowd of tourists that were infesting the mainland’s beach. They were just waiting on Kairi, who was running late for one reason or another, probably some Selphie-related emergency.

Riku snorted. His hair had grown out a little since he first cut it so he could tie it up into a small ponytail. Sora didn’t have the same luxury, which made him jealous whenever he looked at Riku’s exposed neck, little beads of sweat cruising down the curve of it and disappearing into his collar. “I don’t know everything, Sora.”

“Well, I guess that’s going to make me better than you because I’m going to find out!”

And yet—

Kairi ran up to them, her face the same shade of red as her hair (tied into two braids, much to Sora’s chagrin). She wheezed for air between every few words. “Sorry guys! Selphie caught me just as I was about to leave. She wouldn’t let me go until I helped her out.”

“A minute later and we were going to leave you behind,” Riku pushed off the fence he had been leaning against and led the way towards the docks.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet?”

Sora grinned as he watched his two friends bicker amongst themselves. He crossed his arms behind his head as he trailed behind them. He lifted his head, squinting against the bright glare of the summer sun.

And yet, Sora loved being led around in those circles. Sora thought about how Vanitas liked to laugh at him. He also thought about how Vanitas’ eyes would crinkle into perfect crescents whenever he did, his eyes reduced to slits of pure gold. Would Vanitas laugh at him for bringing a paopu cake right after he mentioned never having tried one before? He would probably make a snide comment about how Sora was trying to buy his friendship before accepting the cake, praising his own generosity and kindness for allowing Sora to continue visiting him despite Sora’s impure intentions. Would his eyes crinkle the way it does when he tries the cake?

“It’s a good thing it’s paopu season right now,” Sora said to himself as he pushed the boat into the water, climbing into it hastily before it could float any further away from him.

“What was that?” Kairi didn’t see the stupid smile on Sora’s face, too busy trying to fit her oars into their handles. Riku was already a distance away from them, paddling like his life depended on it. Kairi took off before Sora had a chance to answer her, her mind set on catching up to their other friend, not that Sora minded.

Sora took his time rowing towards the island, enjoying the cool, salty breeze against his skin.

He wondered if Vanitas would like summer.

 

| | | |

 

Sora tightened his grip on the plate in his hand. A small cake sat on the plate, the yellow, spongy texture of it hidden by the dollops of whipped cream that decorated its surface. He had been a bit heavy-handed when frosting the cake but he had used up the last paopu he brought back with him baking this cake so it wasn’t like he could bake a substitute one. Sora knew he could always wait to get more tomorrow but this was the first cake he didn’t burn and he was way too impatient to wait any longer. He wanted Vanitas to try this cake and he wanted him to taste it sooner than later…Of course, he wasn’t going to forget about the others! Vanitas was the experiment! Sora was going to use him as a guinea pig to figure out how to perfect the cake when he bakes more for Roxas, Ventus, and Xion. It’s not like Sora was playing favorites or anything—

Sora glanced up and saw his reflection in the mirror. His previous train of thought was cut short immediately and he couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. He turned his attention back to the cake and smiled at the dessert fondly. “Well…here goes nothing.”

Sora closed his eyes and let himself sink into the warm embrace of sleep.

The reflection of his flushed face was burned into the blacks of his eyelids.

 

 | | | |

 

It’s been fourteenth months since Sora first met Vanitas. About eight months ago, Sora finally admitted to himself that he was in love with his “darker self”. The warmth that had welled up in him, the pounding in his chest, his desire to be around Vanitas all the time, they were all real. Sora’s intrigue with the boy who shared his face had somehow transformed from innocent curiosity to a romantic fascination he couldn’t explain.

“Why’s your face so red?”

The flush on Sora’s face deepened when he snapped out of his thoughts and back into the present. “I-it’s nothing!”

“I bet you’re thinking about something lewd, aren’t you? What a pervert,” Vanitas said in a lilting tone, his last word trailing off into a laugh that made Sora’s throat constrict and his heart ache just a bit.

They were lying on Vanitas’ bed. It was cramped on the small bed but Sora didn’t mind, preferred that there was hardly any space between them. He liked being close to Vanitas and being able to feel Vanitas’ warmth radiating from his body, bathing Sora in its comforting glow.

It would have been perfect, except there was one little detail that could be changed to make it even better. Sora wasn’t exactly the most experienced when it came to romance—he’s had his fair share of crushes and infatuations but those paled in comparison to the feelings he had for Vanitas now—but he was pretty sure that the mask that was currently covering Vanitas’ face was dampening the whole romantic mood of lying in bed with the person he loved.

“No, I was thinking about…” Sora stared into Vanitas’ eyes, or at least the spot his eyes would be behind the dark glass. It’s been fourteenth months and Sora was growing desperate, desperate enough to forget all his inhibitions and take the plunge. “I was thinking about how you remind me of the night sky.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Your hair’s like the sky and your eyes are the stars and moon. No! Prettier than the stars and moon! The moon’s way better than the sun too because my eyes don’t hurt when I look at it. And it’s sad when it goes away sometimes but I know that it’ll always be back, which makes it okay again. And like, I love the sky at night because it’s so calm and comforting, you know? I love falling asleep watching it, knowing that it’ll keep me safe from anything bad that could happen—” Sora continued to babble. His face was as red as the shirt he was wearing at this point but he couldn’t stop now. He took a deep breath to collect himself. “You remind me of the night sky and I…I love the night sky.”

The silence that followed almost drove Sora crazy. Dread began to pool in his gut, regret squeezing his heart so tightly he could barely breathe. Was Vanitas that disgusted by the idea that Sora liked him? He never stayed quiet for this long, a snarky remark always ready to be fired back no matter what the previous statement was. Was he going to ask Sora to leave? Was he going to stop Sora from visiting him ever again? Did Sora just ruin this friendship he had worked so hard to build up? Had Sora done something irreparably wrong?

“Vanitas, I—” Sora started, panic colouring his words as his mind tried to scramble for anything that would salvage their relationship.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Huh?”

“You’re an idiot,” Vanitas repeated. Sora was afraid to believe it, scared that his mind was projecting illusions to him, but it sounded like Vanitas was embarrassed. The sarcastic tone his words always had was gone. Instead of confident, he sounded nervous, apprehensive even, like…like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“I’m…an idiot?” Sora repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, the biggest idiot there is.”

“Is that…a good thing?”

Vanitas made a noise of frustration. Sora was sure he was rolling his eyes under his helmet. There was a short pause before Vanitas spoke again. “The night sky likes the idiot too.”

Sora’s mouth dropped open and all he did was stare at Vanitas for the next few seconds. When his mind finally registered what Vanitas had said, Sora broke into a huge smile that made his cheeks hurt. He didn’t even hear how Vanitas had muttered “idiot” resentfully under his breath again, too caught up in the realization that his feelings weren’t doomed to be one-sided.

“Can you say that again?” Sora asked excitedly, his eyes literally sparkling from the relief that washed over him in waves.

 “No,” was Vanitas’ immediate response.

Sora pouted. “Well, it’s okay because I heard it the first time!” The smile was back on Sora’s face. He lifted his finger and tapped the mask lightly. “Can you take this off?”

Another pause. “You’re such a pain in the ass,” Vanitas grumbled before he let the dark glass dissolve and reveal his face. His normally fair skin was dusted with the loveliest blush Sora has ever seen, the bridge of his nose and his cheeks stained crimson from embarrassment.

Sora moved his hand to cup Vanitas’ face, only to realize that his path was blocked because of the metal face cage that framed the lower half of Vanitas’ face. “Can I take this off?”

“Why?” Vanitas asked defensively, his hand shooting up to touch the side of the face cage.

“Because I want to kiss you and it’s going to get in the way.”

It was Vanitas’ turn for his mouth to drop open into a little ‘o’ shape. His eyebrows, which had been knotted together in confusion before shot up and disappeared into his hairline. His blush darkened, painting his face in gorgeous shades of pink and red.

“Fine,” was his reply but he didn’t move to take it off, which clued Sora in that Vanitas wanted him to do it. With trembling fingers, from the mixture of excitement and nervousness he felt, Sora grasped the bottom half of the face cage and slipped it over Vanitas’ head. He rolled to the edge of the bed and placed it carefully on the floor before rolling to face Vanitas once again.

Looking at Vanitas’ bare face struck Sora with the realization that this was really happening and he was really about to kiss the boy he never planned to fall in love with. How Sora got Vanitas to reciprocate his feelings, he will never know but he wasn’t going to question it, especially not right now, as he lifted his hand to curl it gently around Vanitas’ cheek, caressing the soft flesh there with a sort of divine reverence that Sora knew would only be reserved for Vanitas for the rest of his life.

Vanitas leaned into his touch. His eyes were on Sora’s, gold boring into blue, telling him without words that Sora should never betray the trust he was giving him. They fluttered close when Sora got close enough to feel his hot breath ghost across his lips and Sora took a moment to admire how pretty his eyelashes were. As Sora closed the distance between them, a thought popped up in his mind, one that made him laugh into their first of many kisses to come.

Sora really was a narcissist.

 

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting in AO3 and it's a selfcest sinfic l m f a o. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! It's been awhile since I posted a fanfic anywhere so I might be a little rusty. The 5.5k word limit also meant that I couldn't fit everything that I wanted in so the progress of their relationship is probably gonna read really rushed orz. 
> 
> Any and all comments will be much appreciated! I disown all vocabulary and grammatical mistakes in this piece of work.


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